Singers of Damascus
Candles crackling at my window sillIn a city not too new not too old for me
Carressed by wind and songs of rain
Half known smells of a childhood gone
On a rainy day like this
In a city with rain and flowers
I went to see her
Beautiful May Nasr
Strumming her guitar
Her mesmerizing voice filling the air
Fingers dancing on strings
A white apparition glowing in distance
A golden voice telling of love and pain
In a tongue half known to me
Oh singers of Damascus
Oh singers of Beirut
Your voices of molten silver
Reminding me of stories told of a thousand nights
A tattered book in a broken room in a tired city
Half way across the world
Half way across my life
Words so dear to me
Still speak of worlds of fantasy
A half a life away here I am
Laughing singing talking fighting sleeping
dreaming writing reading crying whispering
In an alien land in an alien tongue
Where do I go from here?
posted by Bithran @ 10:24 PM
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